


Lessons Learned

by MonPetitTresor



Series: The Fledgling [4]
Category: Criminal Minds, Supernatural
Genre: Changing Channels remake, Gabriel (Supernatural) is Loki, Loki teaches them a lesson, Nearly Human Castiel, Powerlessness, Protective Gabriel, Stranded, Survivor - Freeform, briefly, he's not a happy trickster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-14 14:12:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5747431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonPetitTresor/pseuds/MonPetitTresor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel teaches the brothers a lesson he hopes they won't forget</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You'll recognize the start of this from Changing Channels. Just the set up is the same, though, an a bit of dialogue. The rest is mine

For almost a week Sam and Dean tried to figure out anything that might lead them to how Spencer had been taken from the panic room. The kid had been brought their by them, put under _their_ protection, and somehow they’d managed to lose him. That was bad enough. What made it worse was knowing that whatever had taken him was strong enough to slip in past all the wards on the property, past the wards on the panic room itself, and actually take him out of there. What on earth had that kind of strength?

There was one thing that they could think of, but neither one wanted to. It was, quite frankly, terrifying.

“Besides,” Dean said, his tone clearly one of someone grasping at straws. “If Lucifer was gonna sneak in and kidnap anyone, don’t you think he’d try going for _you_ , not the kid?”

As far as reassuring things went, that fell pretty far from the mark.

But there was only so long they could devote to trying to hunt down their renegade nephilim. Finding him was important – it was extremely important – but there was still an apocalypse they had to stop. If Spencer really had been taken by Lucifer, there really wasn’t anything that they could do, nor was there any way they could stop whatever Lucifer would use him to do. Castiel was insistent that they had no idea the amount of sheer power Spencer would be able to command if he put his mind to it. The only thing they could do was keep hunting, keep looking for Spencer, keep trying to stop the apocalypse any way they could, and hope to a God that wasn’t listening that the world didn’t explode.

Bobby was in agreement with them and sent them out on the first case he could find. Privately, Sam wondered if maybe the older hunter just wanted his home and privacy back for a little while.

That was how they ended in Wellington, Ohio, at the local police station investigating the death of a local man who had, it would seem, his head ripped off.

The officers weren’t exactly pleased with the presence of ‘FBI agents’ on their case. That was kind of normal, Sam had learned over the years, and he didn’t let it bother him. Though sometimes it could get just a bit annoying. Especially in moments like right now as the police officer looked him over with an expression that show pretty clearly what he thought of them in their fancy suits. “Once more time,” The man said, annoyance vibrating over his voice. “…the FBI is here, why, exactly?”

“Might have something to do with one of your locals getting his head ripped off.” Dean said, tactful as ever.

The officer looked like he was doing everything he could not to roll his eyes at them. “Bill Randolph died from a bear attack.”

A bear attack. Sam exchanged a brief look with his brother. They were pretty used to civilians making up excuses for the supernatural things that they came across but, wow, that was quite a stretch for this case. “How sure are you that it was a bear?” Sam couldn’t resist asking.

That earned him a strange look. “What else would it be?”

“Well, whatever it was it chased Mr. Randolph through the woods, smashed through his front door followed him up the stairs, and killed him in his bedroom.” Dean said dryly. “Is that common, a bear doing all that?”

The officer shrugged. “Depends how pissed off it is, I guess.” He must’ve seen something on their faces because he sighed and his voice suddenly attempted to sound placating, though he really just came off as patronizing. “Look, the Randolphs live way up in high country. You got trout runs to make a grown man weep. And bears.”

“Right.” Sam said. They weren’t going to get anything else out of this guy. “Now, what about Mrs. Randolph? The file says she saw the whole thing.”

“Yes, she did. My heart goes out to that poor woman.”

Dean arched an eyebrow at the officer. “She said bear.”

There was a brief moment of hesitation. “Kathy Randolph went through a hell of a trauma. She's confused.”

“What did she say?” Sam asked.

* * *

The Hulk.

This woman thought her husband had been killed… by the Hulk.

Sam would’ve laughed at it if he hadn’t gone out to the house to take a look. What he found there – he’d seen some strange things in his time and this was definitely going on the list.

* * *

Dean was sitting with the laptop when Sam came in the door. He looked up at him as he came in. “Hey. Find anything?”

Shutting the door behind him, Sam made his way over towards the table where his brother was sitting. He didn’t bother joining him, though, he just stood there and looked down at him. “Well, uh, I saw the house.”

“And?”

A half-laugh slipped out and Sam sort of wanted to shake his head. He knew how Dean was going to react to this. “And there is a giant eight-foot-wide hole where the front door used to be. Almost like, uh…”

“…a Hulk-sized hole.” Dean finished for him.

“Maybe.” Nodding his head towards the laptop, Sam asked “What do you got?”

“Well, it turns out that Bill Randolph had quite the temper. He's got two counts of spousal battery, bar brawls, and court-ordered anger management sessions.” He looked up and Sam knew what was going to come out of his mouth before the older Winchester even said it. He knew Dean’s sense of humor far too well. Sure enough, the older Winchester chuckled and grinned at him with that stupid little boy smirk he got when he thought he was being funny. “You might say you wouldn't like him when he's angry.”

Ignoring his brother’s rather special sense of humor, Sam let things roll through his mind. He was slowly starting to get an idea here. “So a hothead getting killed by TV's greatest hothead.” Oh…oh, _hell_. “Kinda sounds like just desserts, doesn't it?” He ignored Dean’s snort and shook his head as the pieces of the puzzle in his mind clicked into place. “It's all starting to make sense.”

“How is it starting to make sense?” Dean demanded.

“Well, I found something else at the crime scene.” From his pocket, Sam pulled out a bunch of crumpled up candy wrappers and let them drop to the table. “Candy wrappers. Lots of them.”

Sam walked away and started to pull off his coat as he listened to his brother slowly piece together what Sam had realized. “Just desserts, sweet tooth, screwing with people before you kill 'em—we're dealing with the Trickster, aren't we?” Dean pushed up to his feet and turned so that he could face Sam.

“Sure looks like it.” Setting down his coat, Sam looked back at his brother.

“Good. I've wanted to gank that mother since Mystery Spot.”

For a second Sam hesitated, not quite sure what to say or what to do. He knew what he wanted to do but he also knew that Dean wasn’t going to like it. Still, he had to try. This was the end of the world they were talking about here. He couldn’t afford to let his worries over upsetting his brother get in the way. He’d already upset Dean plenty enough. What was a little more for the greater good? “You sure?”

“Yeah I'm sure.” Dean said immediately, tone and face both saying a clear ‘what the hell, Sam?’

“No, I mean are you sure you wanna kill him?”

That definitely had Dean’s attention. “Son of a bitch didn't think twice about icing me a thousand times.”

Memories flashed in Sam’s mind and he had to fight not to shudder. Even if he could look back on that time now and see it clearer, clear enough to know what it was that the Trickster had been trying to do, it didn’t take away from the nightmares that he still had sometimes. Mystery Spot had taken Sam’s greatest fears and laid them right out there in front of him. Not just Dean’s multiple deaths, but the months that never were, the time without his brother that had given him his first glimpse into the kind of monster that he could really be without Dean at his side. Sometimes Sam thought he could hate the Trickster for showing him that part of himself. Sometimes he thought he hated himself more for not listening while he still had the chance.

Pushing back the memories, Sam had to fight to keep his voice steady and his expression clear; that was in the past. “No, I know, I mean, I'm just saying…”

“What are you saying?” Dean cut in. “If you don't want to kill him, then what?”

“Talk to him?”

His brother looked like Sam had slapped him. “What?”

“Think about it, Dean.” Sam said, spreading his hands out in entreaty. He needed Dean to hear him on this. “He's one of the most powerful creatures we've ever met. Maybe we can use him.”

“For what?” Dean demanded.

Was he serious? Sam understood that Dean didn’t like the guy, though personally the younger Winchester thought it might be because the two were just a little too alike, but couldn’t Dean see past that just for a moment? Sam tapered down his annoyance and put on his best convincing voice that he had. “Okay, Trickster's like a Hugh Hefner type, right? Wine, women, song—maybe he doesn't want the party to end. Maybe he hates this angels-and-demons stuff as much as we do. Maybe he'll help us.”

Dean stared at him. “You're serious.” He said slowly.

“Yeah.”

“Ally with the Trickster.”

He tried not to flinch. “Yeah.”

“A bloody, violent monster, and you wanna be Facebook friends with him?” A sneer curled his lip. “Nice, Sammy.”

He refused to rise to the bait. Holding his ground, Sam met his brother’s eyes. He wasn’t going to let Dean pick an argument and distract him from this. “The world is gonna end, Dean. We don't have the luxury of a moral stand. Look, I'm just saying it's worth a shot. That's all. If it doesn't work, we'll kill him.”

Sighing, Dean shook his head, and Sam knew he’d won. “How are we gonna find the guy, anyway?”

“Well, he never takes just one victim, right? He'll show.” Once he did, they’d figure out some way to talk to him, to convince him to help them. They needed all the help they could get.

* * *

Sam’s predictions proved true. It wasn’t much later that they heard a call over the scanner that seemed to fit what they were waiting for. As soon as they heard the call to send everyone, that the officer couldn’t even begin to describe what it was he was seeing, the two Winchesters armed themselves with regular weapons and their stakes, just to be safe, and they set out to the address on the scanner. They were as prepared as they could be to talk to the Trickster and to, if he wasn’t willing to talk, try and deal with him. Not that any of their past attempts to take him out had proved effective so far.

Only, when they arrived at the warehouse, it was immediate right from the start that something was up. The two hunters climbed out of the impala and looked around the empty area with identical looks of suspicion. “There was a murder here, and there’s no police cars?” Dean said slowly, eyes scanning around them. “There’s _nobody_. How’s that look to you?”

“Crappy.” More than crappy. A bad feeling was building.

It didn’t stop the two from getting their things from the trunk, though. They’d walked into crappy situations before – and into plenty of traps, which this admittedly had all the makings of. Their job made it kind of impossible for them to walk away from these things. Even if they weren’t here to try and talk to the Trickster, they’d still have to go in. If he wouldn’t help them, his tricks still had to be stopped. If they didn’t handle it, who would? This was their job.

Armed with stakes and flashlights, the two made their way inside the warehouse.

What they found inside wasn’t at all what they expected.

It was dark when they first went in, dark enough that they had to turn on their flashlights almost immediately, which made no sense because it was daylight outside. The bad feeling in Sam’s stomach grew as his flashlight flicked on and he found himself staring at a place that most definitely wasn’t the inside of a warehouse. It looked like…like a giant forest. Immediately he turned around, only to see that the door they’d just come through was gone. He turned himself to look at his brother, who was also looking around. “What the hell, dude. Where’d the door go?” Dean demanded. He looked at the trees all around them and then back at Sam. “What the hell?”

“I don’t know.” Sam said slowly.

“No, seriously – what the hell? Weren’t we just in a warehouse?”

Reaching out, Sam waved his hand where the door _should_ have been and only came up with just air. There was nothing there. Nothing at all. So, this wasn’t just an illusion then. Alternate dimension? Another loop like the one he’d set Sam in before? The thought of that made him feel a little sick. Unconsciously, he scooted just the slightest bit closer to his brother. It wasn’t like he’d really be able to stop it if anything were to happen to Dean. The Trickster had proved that time and time again at the Mystery Spot. Nothing Sam had ever done had managed to save Dean. But the younger Winchester couldn’t help the need to be close to Dean anyways. Even knowing he couldn’t stop anything didn’t keep him from wanting to try.

His brother wasn’t blind. Dean noticed the way that Sam inched towards him and it only served to send his temper up even more. This bastard had screwed with Sam one too many times. The hell if Dean was going to let it happen again. “C’mon.” He said, clapping a hand on Sam’s shoulder to get his attention. He used his flashlight to point ahead to a break in the trees where it looked like a small path sat—the only one in sight. “I’ve got a feeling we’re supposed to head that way.”

“Probably.” Sam agreed.

The two set off towards the trail together. There wasn’t much else they could do. They were in the Trickster’s world here, for whatever purpose he planned. Just standing around doing nothing wasn’t going to get them anywhere.

If Sam walked in a way to make sure that he kept his big brother in sight, or if Dean stayed just a bit closer than normal, neither one of them commented on it. They both walked the trail with the thought that what was waiting at the end was most likely going to be something dangerous, and potentially insane. What they hadn’t expected was for the trees to open up suddenly and reveal a rocky, sandy inlet bracketed by two giant cliffs, with ocean stretching out in the distance – and the Trickster sitting atop a giant rock right in the middle of the beach.

He’d set his stage here sort of perfectly. In an absent sort of way, Sam had to admire the being’s sense of dramatics. His seat on the rock put him dead center on the beach, with the two cliffs coming out on either side to frame the horizon perfectly behind him, showcasing the crashing waves as well as the dark clouds that were building out over the ocean. It was a very well set up display that served to put Sam and Dean both even more on edge. That feeling only grew as the Trickster grinned broadly at them and flung his hands out to either side. “Winchesters! Welcome to my little island paradise! Do you like?” He drew his hands back in and rested his elbows on his knees, his hands dangling free. “I made it just for you.”

Sam kept careful watch on those hands. Most trouble was brought about by a snap of his fingers. Even if they were too far away to stop him, it was better to be prepared.

“Great, gorgeous.” Dean answered him, his voice a low growl that clearly showed just how annoyed and fed up he already was. “Now how do we get out of here?”

“Leaving so soon?” One of the Trickster’s hands came up to rest over his heart in a horribly faked expression of offense. “Deano! That hurts my feelings. I worked so hard on this for you.”

 _Oh, yeah, that doesn’t sound ominous at all_ , Sam thought to himself. He pushed back the worry and instead reached out and laid a hand on Dean’s arm, a silent request to let him handle this. When his brother stayed quiet, Sam took a small step forward. “We aren’t here to mess with you or anything like that. We just, we want to talk to you. We need your help.”

The Trickster tapped a finger against his lips. “Hm, let me guess.” Drawing his hand out, he pointed out towards them. “You two muttonheads broke the world, and you want _me_ to sweep up your mess.”

“Please.” Sam said. “Just five minutes. Hear us out.”

For a moment the Trickster just looked at him and Sam hoped with everything he had that it meant the creature was actually thinking about what he said. Then his expression melted into that familiar smirk, the one that said he’d already caused trouble and was planning to cause so much more, and Sam braced himself for whatever was coming. But the Trickster didn’t snap, didn’t do anything. He just kept smirking as he told them “You know, I first started to set this up to show you bozos how to play your roles. I had this whole, awesome TV Land thing planned out. I mean, it was beautiful! But, then I realized there was a much more _important_ lesson for you to learn.”

Sam and Dean shared a quick ‘oh shit’ look. “Oh yeah?” Dean said with as much false bravado as he could. “And what’s that?”

The Trickster’s smirk grew wider. Deliberately, he ignored Dean’s question and he clapped his hands together. “I tell you what, boys. You manage to survive my little game, then we’ll talk. Until then,” He hopped up to his feet and spread his arms wide. “Welcome to Survivor: Trickster Edition! Hosted by none other than yours truly – Loki!” In a move that was far more graceful than Sam would’ve credited him with, the Trickster—Loki, it would seem—jumped down off the rock and landed nimbly on his feet. “Oh, but wait, we can’t forget our special guest star!”

He snapped his fingers and the brothers both startled as Castiel came crashing into the sand between them. Dean immediately lunged forward. “Cas!”

Loki’s grin was both amused and mocking. “Aw, how adorable. Glad you could join us, Cassie! I was hoping you’d be here. Good of you to follow along like the little stalker you are. It makes our casting complete. Now, the fun can begin.” Taking a step back, the Trickster looked from one face to the next. Castiel and Dean were pushing up from the sand and Dean was drawing Castiel back, bringing him back towards Sam. When Loki snapped, they all startled, but nothing seemed to happen. At least, not that they noticed. But Loki was still smiling so it must’ve done something. “Let’s see how well you three can play.” The Trickster said. “You’re in my own little reality, safe from pretty much everyone and everything. There’s no escape, no rescue. You’ve got no tools, no weapons, no supplies – and no powers.” The last bit he directed at Castiel, though both hunters startled. He’d taken Castiel’s powers? When they turned back to Loki, the trickster just laughed. “Have fun!” he called out.

With a snap, he was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

It took a few minutes after Loki was gone for Dean to finally run out of curses. The whole time he was running through his list of rather inventive curses, he was checking out Castiel, trying to make sure that the angel was okay. That was always priority one in Dean’s books during a crappy situation. Make sure that those around him that he cared about were as safe as could be and okay. He’d already made sure, the instant that Loki had snapped, that Sam was still there and okay. At his brother’s nod, he’d been free to check out their angel.

While Dean did that, Sam focused on the rest of it, his brain already working through what Loki had said and pairing it up with what he saw around him. It wasn’t all that hard to figure out; Loki had been pretty clear about what he wanted them to do. _Survive._

Running his eyes over the beach, the tree line, and then out to the coast—and the storm that was getting bigger out there—the younger Winchester winced. “Crap.”

Immediately Dean was looking over at him and bracing for trouble. “What?”

“He mentioned ‘TV Land’ and then called this Survivor: Trickster Edition.” Sam said, turning back enough to look at the other two.

He saw as the same realization hit Dean. “Crap.”

Living in motels meant that the two had watched plenty of TV’s night time crap. The show Survivor had been one of the many they’d seen. They’d even argued once or twice over a couple beers about the stupid things the players on the show did and how they’d do them better. Apparently Loki was giving them the chance to do just that. “He said we’ve got no food, no supplies, and no powers.” Sam reminded him.

The last part hit them both at the same time and they spun to look at Castiel, who was as stoic as ever. Nothing on his face gave away any emotion as he told them “I cannot reach my grace. I am, essentially, as human as either one of you at the moment.” While his voice remained steady, there was a flicker in his eyes, just a small hint of something that said that he wasn’t taking this anywhere near as easily as he was trying to pretend.

“Great.” Dean growled out. “Freaking great. No mojo, no food, no shelter.”

“And a storm coming in.” Sam added, gesturing with one hand out towards the ocean. The clouds were getting darker by the minute out there and he had a feeling it wasn’t his imagination that they looked to be getting closer. It seemed like something the Trickster would do. “We can bitch about the trickster later. Right now, we gotta find shelter before that thing hits.”

This proved to be one of those rare times that Sam found himself actually thankful for some of the survival lessons that his Dad had taught them when they were kids. John Winchester hadn’t just trained his boys to hunt monsters – he’d made sure to train them in every way possible. Part of that had involved going out into the woods and surviving on their own. John had always said they’d need to be able to hunt and track and survive if they were out in the woods after a Wendigo or something of the like. Later on, Bobby had taken those lessons and expanded on them. Before Bobby had been a Hunter, he’d been a regular hunter. He’d taught them a few more skills. Sam and Dean put all those skills to use now as they looked around them and tried to figure out how the hell they were going to make some sort of shelter for three before that storm hit.

“What’ve we got on us?” Dean asked.

The answer proved to be: surprisingly little. Sam understood now what that snap had been that had had Loki grinning. He’d taken every single weapon they carried on them. They still had their flashlights, only because those had been in their hands, but everything else was gone. “So basically we’ve got the clothes on our backs, two flashlights, and nothing else.” Dean spat out. He glared off towards the rock Loki had been on before as if the Trickster was still there. “The little bastard.”

“Growl later, Dean.” Sam said, snapping his fingers to get his attention. “How the hell are we gonna make a shelter with…this?” He spread his hands wide to gesture around him.

Dean was looking around too, with just as critical an eye. “Against the rocks looks like our best bit. In there, under the trees. We should be able to rig up something.”

Another look at the clouds had the brothers moving. They didn’t really have time to waste.

* * *

They got damn lucky with their shelter and the both of them knew it. Dean and Castiel went to the left—because apparently it took the both of them to look—and Sam the right and they went alongside the tall rock walls that made up the cliffs on either side of the water, the things that created the little inlet they were in. They were looking for the best spot to work with to build their shelter. It was Dean who found one, hollering out to Sam. When the younger Winchester came over he saw what Dean was so excited about.

Just a little ways in from where the sand ended and the forest began there was just enough of a dip in the rocks here to make a half-cave sort of area. It wasn’t much but it was better than nothing and wouldn’t take too much to make serviceable. Sam couldn’t help but think that it was intentionally there; this was a construct, after all. Loki had called it his own made up place. That meant that the things here were the things he _wanted_ to be here. So, he wasn’t trying to kill them or anything. He must want them to survive this. He just didn’t want to make it easy for them.

The storm was coming in faster and they weren’t going to have time to do much. Dean was thinking the same thing. After another glance at the clouds, he told Sam “You go grab as much dry stuff as you can so we can try and get a fire. Cas and I are gonna move a few rocks and try and get some sort of wall set up here before that shit hits. We need to try and stay dry.”

They just barely made it. By the time that Sam got back with plenty of things for a fire, Dean and Castiel had a little wall rigged up to hopefully help keep them dry. They’d pulled loose rocks over – apparently Castiel was still stronger than most humans – and had managed to stack them and use sticks and what looked like some kinds of ferns to make sure there were no cracks. It gave them a three sided home that would shelter them just enough that they might stay dry.

They got inside just as the first rain started to fall.

* * *

“I’m gonna kill him.”

Sam tried not to roll his eyes as he heard his brother voice the same threat for the millionth time. The rain had been coming down hard for what felt like hours now and the three men were huddled together inside their little shelter in an attempt to stay as warm and dry as possible. They had their sticks and kindling and fuel all stacked as far back out of the way as possible, wrapped up in Sam’s plaid over shirt to try and keep them dry, and the three of them sat in front of the pile while they waited for the rain to go down enough for them to try and figure out how to even start a fire. They’d sat down together, needing each other’s body heat to stay warm.

By silent agreement, they stuck Castiel between them. The angel had been unusually quiet since this whole thing had started. He sat between them now bent in on himself with his arms wrapped around his waist in an attempt to get a little bit warmer. Sam felt sorry for him. The poor guy obviously wasn’t coping well without his grace there. Though Sam didn’t presume to know what that could feel like for him, he had eyes enough to see that it couldn’t feel good. He’d told them earlier that he was essentially human and Sam could definitely see it. He seemed above the lesser things, like needing to use the bathroom, but…Angels didn’t get cold. They didn’t shiver. And they didn’t get tired. Yet here Castiel was, shivering in the cold air, with his head resting against Dean’s shoulder and his eyes at half-mast…and Dean wasn’t pushing him off. It would’ve been sweet if it wasn’t for the situation they were in.

However, Dean had complained almost the entire time about the Trickster and their situation; a steady stream of curses and grumbles, all directed against Loki. For the most part, Sam tried to ignore it. _Tried_ being the keyword here. There was only so much a person could take, though. “It’s not like we haven’t tried before.” He felt the need to point out after hearing yet _another_ threat to kill Loki. “We’ve staked him a few times now and it hasn’t worked. What makes you think it’ll be any different this time?”

“Oh and I suppose you still wanna _recruit_ him.” Dean said scathingly.

Before Sam could retaliate, or even come up with anything to say, Castiel shifted between them and spoke up for the first time in hours. “Stakes did not kill him?”

Dean shifted enough to be able to look at the angel on his shoulder – a thought that made Sam snort with laughter. “We’ve staked that little bastard a few times now and he’s still kickin’.” Dean said.

“Well, maybe.” Sam wasn’t quite so sure about that. “We’ve seen his ability to make illusions. Who’s to say he hasn’t just sent an illusion of himself to deal with us every time and just watched from the sidelines? It’d explain why the stakes never worked.”

Dean opened his mouth like he was going to argue before snapping it shut again. The look on his face clearly said he hadn’t thought of that. Not that Sam could blame him for that. Until Mystery Spot, Sam hadn’t thought of it either. But he’d had plenty of time to think through things while he’d been hunting the trickster down during those long months that he’d been alone.

“I wondered if you chuckleheads would ever figure that out.”

The sound of that voice was enough to have three heads snapping up. Sam really wasn’t all that surprised to see Loki sitting just a few feet in front of them. The trickster was sitting in the rain, though it looked like the rain wasn’t even touching him.

“Son of a bitch.” Dean’s furious growl echoed around them. He made as if to lunge forward, only to be stopped by Castiel’s grip on his sleeve and Sam’s arm flung out in front of him.

Loki laughed, low and delighted. “Better listen to your friends there, bucko. Wouldn’t want to get all wet now, would we?”

Bracing himself, Sam kept his arm still and tried to keep his brother in place. “Dean! There’s no point in it – he’s not actually there. You’d just get soaked.” And right now the only thing helping them stay warm was that they were all relatively dry.

“Didn’t you three _just_ get through discussing this?” Loki asked, looking to Sam and smirking. He jerked his thumb towards Dean. “A bit slow, this one.”

“Are you here to release us?” Castiel asked him, cutting off whatever Dean was about to growl out.

Loki laughed again. “Let you out? Where’s the fun in that?”

“Then why are you here?” Sam asked. He slowly lowered his arm, sure that Dean was going to stay still, at least for now. He brought his hands back to his lap and fixed his eyes on the trickster in front of him. Best to keep him in sight at all times. “Are you here to, what – gloat?”

“No. Well… maybe. A little.” His smirk grew a little wider. “I’m a bit proud here. You gotta admit, this is pretty awesome.”

Thunder rumbled above them and the wind blew in just a bit of the rain that was coming down in torrents just outside their shelter. The trio leaned into one another and tried to keep their faces from getting wet. “Oh, yeah.” Dean said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “ _Awesome_.”

Seemingly unfazed by both the rain and by the death glares he was getting, the trickster snapped his fingers and a tray appeared in front of the three men. On it were a bunch of fruits and a plate of cheeseburgers. The tray was staying just as dry as Loki and was floating right in front of them in easy reach. “I’m here to offer you bozos dinner.” Loki said, like it was simple and easy.

No one reached out for it. They didn’t even have to look at one another to come to that agreement. Not only had they been raised way better than to take food from any sort of supernatural entity, they knew way better than to trust anything that might come from _Loki_ of all beings. “You really think we’re that stupid?” Dean asked.

Loki’s smirk turned just a bit devilish and he wiggled his eyebrows at them. “You really want me to answer that?” He leaned back and rested on his hands, leaving no print in the ground under him and reinforcing the image that he wasn’t _actually_ here. “Take it, don’t take it, it’s no skin off my nose. Never let it be said I didn’t offer.”

“Why are you doing this?” Castiel’s voice was hard and harsh, the Warrior-of-Heaven voice that still held some power to it, even with him shivering and mostly human. The deep, gravelly growl had been enough to make even Dean sit up straighter a time or two.

Loki didn’t even bat an eye.

The trickster’s grin turned just a shade condescending. “Aw, aren’t you adorable? Even with no power you’re still trying to protect your little humans. You’re like the Little Angel that Could.” The confusion on Castiel’s face and the obvious fact that he didn’t catch that reference _at all_ just made Loki chuckle. “Relax, bird-boy. I’m not after harming your boys. I’m helping keep you all _safe_.” The way he said that last word, twisting it until it sounded like nothing more than a mockery, had Castiel sitting up straighter and scowling at him. The angel opened his mouth to say something only to have Loki talk right over top of him. “Have fun, boys!” With a snap, he and the tray were gone.

Quiet fell over their little cave. The three settled back in against one another, pressing just a little bit closer as a sudden gust of wind sent a chill through them.

“I’m gonna kill him.” Dean grumbled again.

This time, no one corrected him.

* * *

The storm lasted most of the night. By morning, it was finally fading away, the rain slowing down to a drizzle before finally, _finally_ stopping. The sun came out and the clouds cleared away and they were able to step out of their cave and take a real look around.

Sometime during the night they’d come to the conclusion that they weren’t going to be getting out of here anytime soon. They had no idea how to stop this, no idea how to actually kill the trickster especially if he was just sending illusions of himself in to them, and none of them knew any way to break out of whatever little pocket dimension they’d been dumped inside of. That meant they had to survive until they either figured out a way out, or they were let out. That meant they needed to take care of important things like food and fire.

Sam was put on fire detail, the skill he’d always been best at during his father’s wilderness training, and Dean took Castiel with him to go take a look around and try to find some food.

With the help of the lens from his flashlight and a bit of the dry fuel that he’d gathered yesterday, Sam got them a fire going before his brother and his brother’s angel made their way back to camp. When they showed up, Sam had a good blaze going. He looked up from adding a piece of kindling and caught sight of Dean first, followed by a rather…muddy Castiel. It took a lot of effort not to laugh aloud at the poor angel. “What…” Sam had to pause and clear his throat. It looked like Cas had taken a bath in a mud pit. The only clear part of his face was his eyes and a hastily wiped mouth. Forcing back the laugh, Sam straightened up and tried not to look as amused as he felt. “What happened?”

“I, slipped.” Castiel answered.

Wiping a hand over his mouth to hide the smile that slipped out, Sam turned away briefly. “Luckily, it’s a sunny day.” He said before he turned back towards them. Dean was glaring at him like he knew that Sam had been laughing, which he probably did, but Castiel was still standing there looking rather pitiful and Sam couldn’t find it in him to mock his friend. His voice softened a little and his face eased into a friendly smile. “Your pants don’t look too bad, Cas. You should be able to just strip off your coat and shirts and go wash up your face in the water. One of us can help you wash your shirt and then Dean or I can give you one of our flannels to wear while your shirt dries out.”

“I’ll help.” Dean volunteered immediately.

Sam didn’t bother to turn away this time to hide his grin. “I bet you will.”

The scowl that earned him was exactly what he’d been aiming for. The two moved down to the water and Sam shook his head. It looked like he was going to have to take a look of his own if they wanted anything to eat tonight.

* * *

How on earth could they be on an island with no food? There was nothing to be found out there. _Nothing_. There weren’t even any fish in their inlet. No animals on the island, no fish, not even a single berry. Loki had made an island completely without food.

“That son of a bitch.” Dean was absolutely furious. It wasn’t the first time that he or Sam had gone without food, but his gaze kept slipping to Castiel, who was seated on a rock in his slacks and Dean’s flannel looking far more debauched than Sam was really comfortable seeing. It wasn’t just that he was wearing _Dean’s_ shirt that gave him that look, though that definitely made it worse. It was more that Sam couldn’t remember ever seeing the angel in anything but his suit, trench coat and that crooked tie. Just slacks and a shirt with his hair all slicked back and windblown made him look…human. Human and just a little breakable.

“We’ll figure something out.” Sam said. He had to be the voice of reason here. Dean was too angry and Castiel was too…they weren’t quite sure what. He was quiet. All Sam could do was try and keep steady and calm and hope no one flipped out too much. “For now I think we gotta play along. He doesn’t do anything without purpose, right? No matter what, he’s always trying to teach people a lesson. We just need to figure out what kind of lesson he’s trying to teach us.”

“Before we starve.”

Sam glared at his brother. “Real helpful, Dean.”

The older Winchester shrugged. “Just saying, dude. He’s not exactly known for being _friendly_.”

“Rude.” Loki called out, not sounding the least bit bothered by the assessment, really. They all spun to find him perched on the same rock he’d been on when they first arrived. The trickster grinned down at them. “Also, _hello?_ I did offer you food last night.”

“Like we’re gonna trust that!” Dean called out. He strode forward, planting himself at Sam’s side and firmly between Castiel and Loki. “Now let us outta here! We don’t have time for your stupid games.”

“I think you’ve got plenty of time. In fact, I think you’ve got _all the time in the world_.” Loki said, grinning at a joke that Sam would’ve expected from his brother. Really, end of the world jokes? _That’s_ what they were sinking to here? Loki’s amber eyes turned to him and he arched one eyebrow, expression amused. “Don’t knock my jokes, Samster. When are we ever going to get the chance again to use all those fantastic ‘end of the world’ jokes that are just floating out there? Seize the moment, I say!”

Was this seriously his life? Sam blew out a breath and shook his head. “You’re insane.”

“Now you’re getting it, kiddo.”

“Why are you here this time?” Sam asked. “I doubt you’re here to let us out – we haven’t figured out whatever it is you want here. So, what? Another trick? A game? Going to make us compete in challenges for privileges?” He’d seen Survivor enough to know how it went. They had challenges where contestants could earn things like flint or food or such.

“Why on earth would I do that?” Loki asked. He looked puzzled by Sam’s question.

“On Survivor they get to compete in challenges and earn things like flint or food.”

“True.” Loki conceded. Then he spread his hands out and grinned. “But this is the Trickster Edition, and when have I ever played fair? Besides, it’s not like I’m actually starving you guys or anything like that. I’m offering you food. Whether you eat it or not is up to you. It’s not like I’m being a bad guy and starving you or anything.”

“You’re just holding us hostage.” Dean snapped.

Loki’s grin grew a little wider. “True. But you’re safe and fed. I made sure you’ve got some shelter and I gave you food. What else could you want?” With a snap of his fingers, he was gone again.


	3. Chapter 3

A tray of food appeared by their camp that night. Loki didn’t come with it this time but there was no doubt it was from him. Random trays of food didn’t just appear for no reason.

They ignored it, just as they’d ignored the last ones. They also ignored the one that replaced it come morning time, no matter how appetizing it looked. However, they didn’t have much choice on the bottles of water that he left with it. Drinking ocean water wasn’t an option and there was nothing else around them. It was either drink the bottled water or drink nothing at all. So, much to Dean’s annoyance, they drank the water.

“What the hell are we supposed to learn from this shit?” Dean demanded on their third day there. Three days of no real food and minimal sleep—crowding together around the fire and sleeping in shifts wasn’t exactly a restful experience—had put the older Winchester in a hell of a mood. None of them were happy but Dean had always responded to things like this with anger. “Seriously! Are we sure he’s not just dicking with us, trying to kill us slow?”

“All of his previous tricks you have told me of have been rather elaborate lessons.” Castiel pointed out. He was cross-legged on the ground beside Dean, the lack of personal space even more noticeable between them than normal. “There is no reason to believe this is any different.”

Across the fire from them, Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Damn but he needed a shower. “Let’s look at what’s happened so far.”

“We got trapped on a deserted island with no supplies and no way to eat or drink except what he snaps up for us.” Dean summarized.

“He blocked me from my grace.” Castiel added in. He said it with just a slight quiver, one that had Dean leaning in ever so slightly towards them. None of them talked about it but it wasn’t hard to see just how hard a time Castiel was having with this. He still hadn’t shown any need for things like food or water like the Winchesters did, and Sam was pretty sure the guy hadn’t had to go and find a natural bathroom like they had, but he was far more human in random ways than they’d ever seen him before.

“He said we have to survive but he’s making it almost impossible. How long are we supposed to survive this stupid little ‘game’ of his?” Dean scrubbed a hand over his face in a show of annoyance and exhaustion both. “Is he doing it until he gets us to, what? Eat the food? I mean, lore says a lot about eating food given by a supernatural entity.”

Something about all these little pieces kept nagging at Sam. There was something about this, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “He keeps emphasizing that he’s helping us. That we’re safe. He’s made a point to say it a few times, actually.”

The beach went quiet for a moment. Sam saw his brother shift towards Castiel and he wondered if Dean even noticed he was doing it. The older Winchester looked lost in thought. For the first time he was really trying to push past the anger and _think_. “You don’t think this is some corny lesson about how we’re always safe if we’ve got each other and work together, do you?”

“No.” Sam shook his head. That didn’t feel right. It didn’t fit with what Sam was getting from all this. “I don’t…something about this seems almost, familiar, doesn’t it?” He tilted his head and looked down at their fire without seeing it. “Let’s just…this whole thing sucks, but he hasn’t hurt us. Not really. He’s just brought us here, apparently under the guise of teaching us something, and he’s made sure we’re safe while it happens.”

“Safe from what?” Dean demanded.

It was those words that made everything click for Sam.

He didn’t realize that his eyes had gone wide with realization. Sitting up a little straighter, he stared down at the fire in front of him and remembered an entirely different voice telling him

_“Just until we can find a way to help get your powers under control so you can be safe.”_

_“Safe from what?” Spencer asked, finally looking up. Part of his mind was telling him how stupid it was to antagonize his kidnappers and how he needed to keep his calm and treat this like any other case. The other part of him, the part that ached and throbbed and screamed with every breath, that part just didn’t care. “Safe from being kidnapped by someone who wants to find a way to control my supposed immense power and use it to win some war?”_

“Oh, shit.” It made so much sense now. How the hell hadn’t they seen it before? Sam lifted wide eyes to lock with his brother’s across their fire. Dean had sat up at the look on Sam’s face and he was watching him intently now. He knew his brother’s tells. Castiel didn’t, but he did know Dean and he recognized the intent way that Dean was watching Sam. Both sets of eyes were locked on the younger Winchester. “What is it, Sam?” Dean asked.

“I think I know what this is about.”

“Care to share with the class, Einstein? Or you planning on just keeping it to yourself?”

For the moment he ignored Dean’s snark. They were in a lot of trouble here if he was right. “Think about it, Dean. We were basically kidnapped, taken somewhere against our will by someone claiming they’re going to keep us safe. We’re offered trays of food we aren’t eating by a guy we don’t trust. Any of this sound familiar?”

Dean tilted his head a little and furrowed his brow in that way of his that said he was processing something. Then it was like the light went off and his whole face clearly said ‘Oh!’ before shifting to something more like a scowl. “Oh, hell. You think this is cause of the Doc?”

“I think he’s trying to give us a taste of our own medicine.” Sam said slowly. As if he hadn’t already felt _horrible_ about that. What they’d done to Spencer – he had no excuse for it. The whole thing had been screwed from the moment they’d first lit that ring of fire around him and it’d only gone downhill from there. Sam found he couldn’t even be mad about this anymore. If this was why Loki was teaching them a lesson, it was no less than they deserved. They’d wronged that kid in a lot of ways and both Winchesters knew it.

Seconds after Sam said that last line, a loud dinging sound filled the air, like the winning sound on a game show, and confetti rained down on them. “Bravo!” called out a voice that had gotten far too familiar. “Bravo, boys!”

None of them were surprised to see Loki suddenly seated off to the side of their fire. He wasn’t perched up on his rock this time. Instead, he was seated on a piece of rock by their fire, like he’d pulled up his own seat. He seemed as at ease in these natural surroundings as he had in some of the fancier things Sam had seen him in when he’d hunted him. Then again, that made sense. Loki might like the finer things in life; it didn’t mean that he wasn’t connected to nature. As a pagan god, nature was a part of him, no matter what.

“What the hell, man?” Sitting up, and pulling away from Castiel a little in a way that sort of put him in front of their defenseless angel, Dean glared at the trickster without a hint of the fear most probably showed. “You did all this to show us that we screwed up with the kid? Cause, trust me, we already knew that.”

With a shrug, Loki leaned back on his hands, his legs still crisscrossed under him. He was dressed casual in jeans, a t-shirt and that olive green jacket, a smug smirk curling his lips around the stick of a sucker. No one would guess just how dangerous he really was. Not until they looked at his eyes. For all his smirking and mocking, his eyes were hard and just a bit dangerous as they ran over the group. “Knowing and experiencing are two different things, bucko. I thought you guys should know what it feels like to be kidnapped by someone a lot stronger than you and shut up somewhere you’ve got no chance of escaping from, left alone and slowly starving to death.”

“We tried to feed him!”

“I tried to feed you.” Loki pointed out.

“Yeah, right. Like we were gonna trust you…” The way that Dean trailed off said he realized the implications of his words as he was saying them.

The trickster’s grin was smug. Lifting one hand, he pulled out his sucker and pointed it at Dean. “Now you’re getting it.”

Castiel sat up a little straighter like he, too, was seeing the light on some things. “You’re the one that facilitated his escape from the panic room.” Almost immediately on the tails of that, Dean was glaring even harder and growling out “What did you do to him?”

“You think I hurt him?” Loki looked _offended_. Like the idea of him hurting Spencer was so ludicrous that he couldn’t even believe they had the audacity to ask him.

“You expect us to think you, what, _helped_ him?”

“A lot more than you boys were. You almost killed him!”

“What’re you talking about?” Sam asked. He tried to keep his voice calm; someone had to be in the midst of this. It didn’t help when heated amber eyes snapped over to him and the trickster scowled. “Use that gigantor brain of yours, Sam-o. You shut him in a room warded against angels. Didn’t you stop to think about the effect that might have on him?” Loki’s attention turned abruptly to Castiel. “Tell me, Cassie boy, how’s it feel being without your grace for three days? Feeling good? _Sane_?” He watched Castiel blanch back and chuckled darkly. There was nothing kind or easy about him now. He was all dark, sharp humor. “That’s what I thought. Don’t feel too great, does it? An I didn’t take yours away like you did him. I just locked it up so you couldn’t reach it. The wards you put that kid in, he had a great big empty spot inside where his grace should’ve been. Imagine how he felt. You imbeciles betrayed him, locked him up, and you _tortured_ him. You’re damn straight I took him out of there!”

There was nothing Sam could say to that. It hit too hard, too deep, for him to even think of a response. The guilt he’d already carried over this just grew bigger. It’d been bad enough with what they’d known before. This? This made it so much worse. He felt sick to his stomach at the idea that they’d been torturing the kid without even realizing it.

Though he could see that Dean was just as affected by Loki’s words, his brother was always better at pushing that kind of stuff down until later when he could drink away his feelings. For now, he just shoved them down and met Loki glare for glare. He wouldn’t give in. His guilt would only make him look angrier. “What’s it matter to you? I didn’t think your kind were partial to angels or humans, let alone a mixed breed like the kid is.”

“Don’t presume to know what I am or what I care about, you insignificant little ant.” Loki snarled. He straightened up in his seat and shock echoed around the fire as the light of the sun was briefly blocked out by the shadows of three great bit sets of wings. Thunder crashed above them and in the distance and a light both ancient and deadly lit up those amber eyes. “That _kid_ is under my protection now, so I suggest you watch how you talk about him.”

Son of a bitch. Sam knew he was gaping and couldn’t quite bring himself to stop. Those were…those were _wings_! That meant that the trickster was a—an angel!

Soft, so soft Sam almost didn’t hear him, Castiel breathed out one word in a voice that echoed with awe and reverence. “ _Gabriel_.”

The shadow of wings vanished and Loki— _Gabriel!—_ seemed to diminish a little. No less powerful, but less threatening. His smirk was back in place as he slouched back down onto his hands. “Hey bro.”

* * *

Oh this was way too good. Gabriel watched the flabbergasted looks of the three in front of him and his inner trickster crowed at such a perfect reveal to what he considered one of his best tricks of all. No one had ever suspected to find the archangel Gabriel hiding out as a _trickster_. Keeping his identity secret meant that he couldn’t really go around telling anyone and watching their reactions. He’d always just enjoyed silently laughing at the idiots who had no idea who they were dealing with. But actually being able to reveal himself and watch how stupefied it made people—that was fun.

“You’re _Gabriel_? The _archangel_?” Sam asked, his face stunned and, maybe, just a bit awed? It’d been a long time since anyone had looked at Gabriel quite like that and he preened a little under it. “Guilty.” He answered Sam with a wink. “Been hiding out here on earth for a while.” Slanting a look over at his brother, whose grace he had released even as he’d shown his own, he let his smile soft just a bit. “Long time no see, little bro. You’ve been busy. I heard you were the one that groped Dean tight and rose him from perdition.”

“Dude!” Dean’s whole face went red in an instant. It was kind of impressive. “Gripped, not groped!”

Gabriel smirked at him. “I saw the handprint, bucko. Trust me, groped is a _much_ better description.”

The way that Castiel’s wings shuffled in open embarrassment had Gabriel letting out a delighted laugh. He had a bone to pick with little Cassie, a _huge_ one, but for the moment there was no reason they couldn’t at least have a warm moment in greeting.

“Gabriel.” Castiel leaned forward, almost like he would physically push around Dean if it would get him closer to his brother. Though his hands didn’t reach out, his wings fluttered like they wanted to and were being just barely held back. “Where have you been? We thought you dead.”

“You know me, Cas. I never could take the fighting.” The words were said as lightly as he could manage. There was an underlying air of bitterness that he had a feeling even the humans caught on to. The way that Castiel looked at him was all that mattered, though. He could see that his brother did understand. He and Castiel had been close enough and while he knew it had to have hurt his little brother for him to bail like that, he also knew that Castiel would understand. Even as a fledgling he’d always seen so much more than others. He’d seen how hard it was for Gabriel to be there. To be in the middle of all the fighting. While archangels were considered Heaven’s greatest weapon, the ultimate in their warriors, it didn’t mean that they reveled in fighting and bloodshed. Gabriel had done plenty over the years and it had always been hard on him. Father had told him it was one of his greatest traits – that the taking of a life should never be easy. For Gabriel it never had been. But fighting with his siblings was even harder. He wasn’t built for that.

The painful trip down memory lane was interrupted by, no surprise, Dean. There was someone who needed to work on their self-control a little bit. “So, wait a second. You’re saying that the trickster, this trickster, is an archangel? The archangel _Gabriel_?” He was looking at Castiel as he said this, apparently seeking confirmation in the seraph. When he got Castiel’s nod, he only looked more incredulous. “And _he’s_ the one that has the Doc?”

The Doc. Gabriel just resisted snorting at that.

“It is rather difficult to believe.” Castiel said. His bright blue eyes were fixed on Gabriel and his wings were lifted, the confusion evident there as well as the protectiveness that the archangel doubted either Winchester realized Castiel felt. It showed to Gabriel in how each wing was stretched like they were going to snap into a shield around the boys. Well, mostly around Dean. Castiel was close enough to him that one wing was already lightly curled around him. Sam, across the fire from them, didn’t get quite the same level of protection.

Gabriel shrugged one shoulder at him. “Believe it, don’t believe it – that’s no skin off my nose, bro. Fact is, he’s with me. In fact,” he paused to think for a moment, gauging the time differences between where he was to where Spencer was. A hint of a smile touched his lips. “He’s probably still passed out. With his grace getting stronger, he probably doesn’t _need_ the sleep, but he’s still recovering right now.” And Gabriel was still shielding him. Spencer's grace _was_ growing stronger the more that Gabriel trained him and the more he used it. In so many ways he was becoming more and more angel and less and less human. Honestly, Gabriel was pretty sure the kid could survive without the human things like sleep and food. He just wasn’t quite sure how to bring that up with Spencer yet. Something told him it wouldn’t go over well.

It wasn’t hard for Gabriel to realize what the problem was that the others were having here. He’d sort of expected it one they got past the shock of who he was and realized what it meant. They still thought that Spencer was a nephilim and history didn’t exactly paint Gabriel in a kind light when it came to the nephilim.

If this whole plan was going to work, he needed to make them understand that they were wrong. That meant it was going to be time for an explanation. But first… he knew his eyes were probably glowing just slightly with his temper when he looked at Castiel. “You’ve got a lot to make up for, little brother.” Him more than anyone else.

Not surprisingly, Dean leapt to his defense. “He was just trying to help.”

“You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about, so why don’t you close that yap of yours and let the big boys talk for a sec, hm?” A snap had a strip of duct tape appearing over Dean’s mouth. Content with that, Gabriel turned back to Castiel and his expression sharpened once more. Behind him, unseen by the humans, his wings rose up in a display of temper. “You screwed up, bucko. I’m all for tricks but yours was cruel. You convinced a terrified fledgling that he could trust you to do something to keep him safe and then you used it against him and knocked him out and took him to a room and put up nephilim wards that cut him off from his grace and tortured him with the emptiness for _days_.”

One word struck more than any other out of that speech. Gabriel watched Castiel’s wings jerk back in stunned shock. “ _Fledgling_?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Brand spanking new—not even a whole year old yet. An he trusted you. Reached out to the very first grace he’d ever felt, trying to commune without even knowing what he was doing. And what did you do?” His words were sharper, with a bite that was pure Loki. Leaning forward, he jabbed a finger Castiel’s direction. “You betrayed that. You taught him he couldn’t trust an angel. That grace _hurts_.” And oh, for that alone Gabriel could’ve kicked his brother’s ass. He had to fight to keep his temper leashed here. No fledgling should be so scared of the touch of grace. Every time Spencer flinched back from it, every time he watched Gabriel hesitantly like he was waiting for the archangel to do something that he wouldn’t be able to stop, it made Gabriel ache.

“Gabriel.” The pain that throbbed in that single word had Gabriel reining in his temper some. He could see it in Castiel’s wings, feel it in his grace, how sorry he was, how horrified. “I…I didn’t know.”

“I know you didn’t. That’s pretty much the only thing saving you right now.”

“So wait,” Sam said. He rested his arms on his folded legs and leaned forward, his expression one of someone who was trying to piece together a puzzle, or discovering new information. The man may have been raised a warrior; however, he was a scholar at heart. “I thought Spencer was a nephilim. What’s a fledgling?”

That was the question Gabriel had known would come and one he’d prepared himself to answer. He knew there was a bit he was going to have to explain to these kids. They needed to understand. They needed to know what Spencer was because later, he was going to have to eventually explain to them what it would mean for their future. Not yet, of course. Later. Much, much later.

For now, he needed to make them understand what Spencer was. To do that, he also had to explain to them what a nephilim was. It’d help them understand the distinction.

The explanation wasn’t going to be short, though. Gabriel lifted a hand and snapped his fingers and watched them startle as a tray appeared in front of each Winchester. “Eat up while I explain, kiddos. You’re hungry and you’ve hopefully realized I’m not trying to bind you with _food_. You eat and I’ll talk.”

The two hunters shared a look and then looked to Castiel, waiting for his discreet nod before they turned back to their food. It was kind of cute, really, all this silent communication.

They started to eat and Gabriel settled down a little more comfortably. “All right. Let’s see if I can explain this so your little mortal minds can understand. Nephilim are born from a human mom and an angel dad. When an angel inhabits a vessel, they saturate every inch of it—even their little swimmers.” He chuckled when he saw Dean choke a little at that. Smirking, Gabriel held up a hand and wiggled it like a swimming fish. “So when those little swimmers start a’swimmin’, they have a bit of grace in them. That grace is infused in every cell of the kid as it forms. By the time they’re born, it’s a part of them, their very own grace, made even stronger by their soul.”

“Okay, we’ll just skip over the gross part of that.” Dean said. “What’s that got to do with the kid not being a nephilim?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. Impatient brat. “Nephilim are half grace, half soul. It’ a pretty even split between human and angel. This kid? He’s got just enough soul to give him that touch of human, but I’d say he’s about ninety percent grace. That makes him more angel than nephilim. He’s growing _wings_ , even—nephilim don’t do that.”

“How does that happen?” Sam asked.

“I saw it once, way back when.” Gabriel told them. “It’s what happens when both vessels have an angel in them.”

They all looked surprise, Castiel included. It was Sam who asked, “That can happen?”

Though they couldn’t see it, Gabriel’s wings shrugged a little, a silent resettling to push off the uncomfortable feeling that tried to settle over him. “Only deliberately. We’ve got complete control over our vessels. No angel in a female vessel would be fertilized unless she wanted to be.”

“So, if his angel Mom apparently wanted him – where is she?” Dean asked.

Wasn’t that the sixty four thousand dollar question? No answer that Gabriel had come up with so far had been a good one. He hadn’t pursued it yet; doing that would mean going and hunting down Spencer's parents and invading their privacy in a way he didn’t want to do with his relationship with Spencer still so fragile. The kid came first, before everything – facts included. Gabriel had to build that up first before he really started digging deeper. “Nowhere good.” He finally answered. Gabriel ran his eyes over them and settled on the one he knew would understand this next sentence the most. “Best as I can figure, she Bound him before she left. That’s why he didn’t come into his powers until recently. He’s had it locked away with nothing more than a bit of telekinesis leaking out until he died. Then the binds fell off and his grace kicked in and saved him, only now it was free. There was nothing holding it back anymore.”

“She _Bound_ him?” Castiel repeated.

“What?” Dean asked, looking back and forth between the angels. “What’s that mean?”

Castiel didn’t look away from Gabriel as he answered. “It means that she locked down his grace in a cage inside so it could not grow. To bind an angel’s grace is a war crime. No one dares do it. You’re taking away what makes us who we are.”

_Or protecting them_. Gabriel kept that thought to himself. “We’ve been trying to make up for lost time. I’ve been teaching him since I took him out of there. He can keep himself hidden now and he’s got a lot better control than he did before. He’s a fast learner.” That was an understatement. The kid was _smart_. Gabriel couldn’t help but feel proud of that. “We talked, he and I, and he’s ready to join up with the real world again. I agreed, on the condition that I got the chance to speak with you chuckleheads _before_ we put our lot in with Team Idiot here. Hence my amazing little lesson.” There was no way he was going to let Spencer around them without making sure they understood things first.

“Spencer…wants to help us?” There was a hint of hesitation in Sam’s voice like he couldn’t quite believe what he was saying.

Looking at him, Gabriel could see the guilt oozing off of the kid and it made him want to wince a bit. As much as he felt that they all _should_ feel bad about this, there was a part of him that didn’t really like seeing the already guilt infested Winchester taking on even more guilt. He didn’t let himself show any remorse, though. Instead, he cocked an eyebrow at him and smirked. “Duh. Isn’t that what I just said?” Rolling his eyes, he looked at Castiel. “How do you put up with this?”

“Then why do all this? Why put us through this first?” Dean demanded.

Heat and fire flashed in Gabriel’s gaze. “I won’t let you hurt him again. Try it and we’ll work on our own, far away from you.”

The older Winchester sneered at him. “Who says we even want your help?”

Castiel and Sam both looked at Dean, stunned. “Dean!” Sam exclaimed. He slanted a look over at Gabriel and then back to his brother. “He’s an _archangel_. You wanna throw away having someone like that on our side?”

“He’s a dick whose screwed with us over and over in a twisted attempt to ‘help’ instead of just coming right out and letting us know what’s going on.” Dean shot back.

Temper had Gabriel siting up a little straighter. Behind him, his wings pushed up, an open display of dominance and anger. Dean seemed to have that effect on him a lot. It was something he was going to have to learn to control if he was going to work with them. However, that didn’t mean he’d ever take the conceited hunter’s shit and he was going to make damn sure Dean understood that. “Listen here, you arrogant dick. I’m not here begging to be a part of your Team Freedom or whatever you decided to call it. Spencer wants to be here and that means you get me, too. You don’t like it? Tough shit. I’m not like the rest of your little gang – you can’t order me around.”

Before he said or did something that he might later regret, Gabriel took a deep breath and drew his wings back in. Then he pushed up to his feet. It was kind of funny to watch how quickly the others scrambled up as well. For the moment Gabriel chose to ignore Dean; the hunter was only serving to piss him off. He instead focused on the hunter that he much preferred anyways. “We’ll meet you at Singer’s in two days. It shouldn’t take you longer than that to get there. Then everyone should’ve cooled off enough and we can all discuss where we want to go from here.” One corner of his mouth quirked up and he couldn’t help how he softened just slightly. “Try not to get dead in that timeframe, Samoose. You’re far too pretty for the corpse look.”

A snap of the fingers and the hunters were back in the warehouse they’d started in and Gabriel was long gone.


End file.
